Touch the Flame
by thesimplegirl
Summary: Harry learns about Snape's past while spending his summer at the Burrow.
1. Chapter 1

**Touch the Flame**

**Summary: Harry learns about his potions professor's past while spending his summer at the Burrow.**

**A/N: This is something I wrote a while ago. I figure I should post it now, because when the new book comes out (woo!) there is no chance it will work anymore. Please read and review! I love getting feedback : )**

Chapter One: Out in the Rain

_**The Summer Before Harry's Sixth Year**_

The sound of thunder rumbled in the distance, catching Harry's attention. The air was dry, but the dark clouds sweeping in on the horizon promised rain. Harry stood up slowly from hard ground, brushing blades of grass and bits of dirt and leaves from his worn jeans. He looked about the park, noting that it was deserted. The swings were dancing alone in the growing wind, the sight suddenly making Harry ache for company. This had become Harry's favorite place to hide away from the Dursley's, partly because it was close to where he had seen Sirius for the first time, but also for a less melancholy reason.

He knew he was safe here, at least as safe as he could be outside of the Dursley's large square house. When he couldn't stand to be around them for another moment his dusty sneakers brought him here, almost as if they had a mind of their own. He knew he was being watched by the order members. He was positive he had seen Lupin and Tonks standing on the corner of Privet Drive together, but when he had turned again to get a better look they had gone. He suspected they wanted to give him at least an illusion of privacy, and it did work for the most part. Lying on the rough lawnin the park he could stare up at thelight blue skyand forget that he was always being watched, that Sirius was dead, that he was going to have to either kill Voldemort or die...

Harry kicked an empty glass bottle down the street, his hands shoved in his pockets. Some days he didn't care if Voldemort found him. At least if he was dead he could see Sirius again, and he could stop worrying about the day that was swiftly coming when he would have to stand up to Voldemort and either kill or be killed. Other days he felt agitated and restless, like he could fight a hundred battles and still beready for more. He liked those days the best, because he didn't think about Sirius so much then. He was so consumed with thoughts of revenge that he nearly forgot his misery.

His grief would come again of course, hanging over him like a dark cloud. He would think of Sirius at the oddest times, like when he was eating his breakfast cereal. He could becasually spooning food into his mouth when suddenly it would hit him like a lightening bolt. Sirius was dead, he wasn't coming back, and it was probably his fault. It always felt like his heart was exploding in his chest, pain cascading over him until he could take it no longer. Harry always tried not to cry, especially around the Dursleys. Sometimes he could barely hold back his tears until he reached his bedroom. Even in his room with the door shut, he felt embarrassed crying. He strongly suspected he should be over this by now, everyone else seemed to be.

"Where have you been?" His Aunt Petunia asked the minute he stepped in the front door.

She was sitting stiffly on the chintz sofa, her hands pressed tightly together on her lap. Her thin lips were pressed together into a thin line, and her face had gone so pale the blush she always wore now looked garish on her cheeks.

"At the park." Harry said, deciding he was too tired for an argument.

He felt like he was too tired for most things now. When he wasn't hiding at the park he was sleeping, or lying curled up on his bed trying to force sleep to come.

"_That_ has been here all afternoon!" Petunia yelled, her voice disintegrating into a high-pitched squeal.

She pointed a manicured finger into the kitchen, were a familiar owl was sitting on the table, nibbling at the cake that his aunt must have been eating when it arrived.

"I had to let it in the house." Petunia said, her voice thick with indignation. "What would the neighbors think?"

"They would think you had an owl in your yard." Harry snapped, entirely sick of his aunt.

She recoiled, but didn't say anything else. She wrapped her white sweater more tightly around her shoulders, and turned the television on.

As the sound of aobnoxious laugh track filled the house, Harry walked into the kitchen. His heart was thumping, but for some reason he didn't feel that eager.

"Hi Pig." Harry said soothingly, reaching out and patting Ron's owl on its small feathered head.

Pig hooted, and then lightly nicked Harry on the hand with her beak.

"I know, I know." Harry said. "I didn't mean to keep you waiting. Look for me in the park next time."

Pig titled her head, and then went back to picking at the cake. Hedwig would never touch that sort of junk, it would just figure that Ron's owl would be a glutton for it. While she was occupied Harry untied two letters from her leg. He shoved them into his pocket, and then opened the window above the sink.

"Here you go." Harry said, picking Pig up and placing her on the window sill.

She pecked at him again, and looked back longingly at the cake. Harry laughed, for what felt like the first time in ages.

"No, you have to go." He said firmly, giving Pig a little shove.

She opened her wings, and swooped down close to lawn before flapping her wings and disappearing up into the sky. Harry watched until she had gone, and then laughed when a loud crack of thunder rattled the house, and his aunt gave a sharp cry of alarm.

"Thunder." He said flatly, as he passed through the living room.

His aunt had both hands thrown up over her chest, and a ridiculous expression of fright on her face. She scowled at him a little, but did not make any move to relax.

_-and you too could be a winner! -_

The blaring television announced, as Harry ran up the stairs. He slammed his door for good measure, hoping his aunt would scream again, and threw himself down on his bed. He stared up at the ceiling for a while, before wrestling the letters from his pocket. He unfolded the smallest bit of parchment first, guessing it must be from Ron. He usually managed to get his point across in only a few lines.

_Dear Harry,_

_You should write to Hermione. She's becoming a real nutcase about you. There isn't any reason for her to worry, right? She asked me to send this on to you. I told her she should have gotten an owl instead of that dumb cat. Fred and George moved out this morning. I didn't think they were actually going to do it. Mum wasn't too happy about it. I'm glad at least. My room still smells like smoke. We'll visit them at their flat when you come. I've almost convinced everyone that you should be here instead of with those stupid muggles. My mum especially._

_-Ron_

Harry frowned a little. In his first letters to Harry after they had gotten home he had promised to try and get him to the Burrow. The order was no longer using Grimmauld Place as their headquarters. He knew it was because Kretcher might have given away too much information about what they were doing and they had no where else to keep him, but he suspected it was for his benefit as well. He couldn't bare to face Grimmauld Place knowing that Sirius would not be there. Ron had said they wouldn't say exactly where headquarters was now, thought it might as well have been the Burrow order members were there so often.

He didn't want to be ungrateful, but to Harry it seemed that Ron was not doing enough to get him to the Burrow. Harry could only say so much in a letter, but Ron was there in person. Surely there was something else he could do...

Too tired to really get angry, Harry tossed Ron's letter aside and then opened Hermione's.

_Dear Harry,_

_How are you? I really hope that you are alright. You have been remembering to write to the order, haven't you? Mrs. Weasley is really worried about you. Ron has her nearly convinced that something bad is going to happen to you at the Dursley's. I know it's hard Harry, but you are safer at your aunt and uncle's house then you would be anywhere else. Please remember that. Make sure you go to bed early and take care of yourself. It isn't good to spend all day in bed. Go outside and get some air. Are you eating? I think Mrs. Wealsey is sending you a care package. I wish that I could be there with you, I really do, but my parents have been very worried after what happened in the Department of Mysteries. They were even talking about taking me out of Hogwarts, but I know they'd never do that. I haven't exactly been very fair to them. They were crushed that I didn't spend Christmas with them, and I was barely home at all last summer. We have family coming to spend a few weeks with us. Maybe after that I'll be able to come to the Burrow. Surely you'll be there by then. Please write me back Harry, I'm starting to worry._

_-Hermione _

Harry stared down letter, crumpling it a little in his hand. He knew Hermione had a good reason to be worried about him, but he wasn't in the mood to be nagged. In fact, he wasn't in the mood for much of anything right now.

The storm clouds had reached Privet Drive, blocking all the light from the sun. Harry kicked off his shoes and settled down onto the bed, feeling very alone in his darkened bedroom. He wasn't sure whether he wanted to around people or not, for his thoughts seemed to linger on Sirius regardless.

Rain began to patter on the window, softly at first and then harder. Lightening flashed across the sky, making ghostly shadows appear on his walls. A crack of thunder followed, and then an eerie silence. Harry sat up on his elbows, alarmed. It took him a moment to realize that the powermust have gone out.

He could hear his aunt shuffling around downstairs, pulling drawers open in a search for candles and matches. The storm would pass enough, but by then it would be dark outside anyway. Soon Uncle Vernon would be home, and he bewould in a foul mood if he couldn't watch his game shows tonight. Harry knew he should revel in his uncle's misery, but couldn't manage even a faint glimmer of satisfaction. Dudley wouldn't be home until well after his parents lame attempt at a curfew, mostly because he was still skittish around Harry. Although he could act tough enough, Harry knew that Dudley was nearly terrified of him now.

Harry groaned when he heard Petunia run up the stairs, and then throw open his bedroom door without knocking. Truthfully, he had not expected it would take this long.

"This hasn't anything to do with your...type...does it?" She demanded, clutching a flash light in one shaking hand.

"The storm or the power going out?" Harry yawned into the back of his hand, and stared at her in a such way to make it clear that he thought she was an idiot.

"Don't be smart with me!" Petunia feebly demanded, sticking her chin in the chair.

Harry could see her eyes were glittering with moisture, and he rolled his eyes. It was not unusual for his aunt to get hysterical over such stupid things.

"I'm so sick of this!" She shouted, her voice getting louder and higher-pitched with every word. "Never knowing if...always being afraid..."

Harry sat up, glaring at her. He was numb to her outburst of emotion, but he wasn't immune from it.

"It isn't my fault." He scoffed, scowling.

"Oh of course, it never is!" She shouted, tears freely flowing down her cheeks. "You would put all of us in danger...you are just as reckless as your mother."

"Don't talk about my mother!" Harry shouted, jumping to his feet.

A small cry escaped his aunt's lips, but she made noattempt to back away. Instead she puffed out her chest, and stepped even closer. Her eyes were narrowed into tiny slits shining with tears, and her entire body was shaking.

"Get out my house!" Petunia shouted, wildly. "I don't care if you do die! I'm sick of you!"

"Fine!" Harry shouted, his face stinging as if he had been slapped.

Why should he care whether she wanted him alive or dead. She was nothing but a cold-hearted snake anyway. Harry watched dispassionately as Petunia dragged his trunk out from under the bed, and began throwing his belongings in it. She avoided stepping too close to him, and he was careful to move out of her way.

"I have to get Hedwig too." He said, once his aunt had pushed his trunk into the hall.

She didn't respond, and instead began dragging his trunk down the stairs. It made a fantastic banging sound as it hit each step, and Harry found himself fantasizing it was his aunt's head bouncing down the stairs.

He took out his wand, and then grabbed Hedwig's cage. His aunt was waiting for him at the bottom on the stairs, his trunk was already out in the rain. He pointed his wand menacingly at her as he passed, just for good measure. She screamed, throwing her hands over her head. He grabbed this trunk, and then dragged it down the front walk and into the street. He wasn't sure where he was going, but as he heard the door slam behind him he knew it definitely wasn't back into that house.


	2. Lost and Found

**A/N: Thanks for all the reviews. I really appreciate it. This chapter and the next might seem like a little bit of a slow start, so bear with me here ; )**

Chapter Two: Lost and Found

Harry wandered the streets for a good few minutes, feeling very foolish dragging his trunk and Hedwig's cage behind him. It was raining harder than ever now, and it wasn't long before he was soaked down his skin. He supposed he could go to Mrs. Figg's, but he really didn't feel like explaining what had happened just yet. He was sure that someone in the order would figure it out soon enough, and then come looking for him.

Before Harry really knew what he was doing, he found himself back in the park. The hard packed ground had now dissolved into mud, and it took all his energy to drag his trunk through the park and up to the small gazebo that had been built while he was away at school. It was still so new it smelled of fresh paint, though Dudley and his gang had already carved their names into one of the wooden benches. Harry took his jacket out of his trunk, and slid it on over his damp clothes. Shivering, he pulled a sweater that Mrs. Wealsey had knitted for him years ago that was now many sizes too small, and bunched it together for a pillow. He lay down on the bench and shoved it under his head. Drawing his arms over his chest for warmth, he shut his eyes, and tried to force himself to sleep. If he was awake he would have to form some sort of plan, whether it be going home to the Dursley's and begging for their forgiveness, which was very unlikely, or going to Mrs. Figg and letting the order deal with itbut having to explain himself to them.Sleep sounded much better than action right now, and he was grateful when he felt the rain on the wooden roof above him gently lulling him to sleep.

_His mouth was full of blood, it was running down his chin, soaking the front of his robes. His hands...though they were not his hands...were reaching out to something. His fingernails were dirty with blood, and one of his fingers was bent in such a way it had to be broken. _

"_I won't..." A labored croaking voice came from his throat, though it was not his voice. "You'll have...kill me..."_

_A spell zinged across the air, missing him by inches. A silent scream caught in his throat. A red bubble escaped from his lips and then burst, splattering the stone floor with blood. _

Harry let out a strangled cry, and sat up so quickly he lost his balance and fell from the hard bench down onto the even harder floor. His heart was pounding in his chest so wildly he swore it would burst, and his upper-lip was damp with sweat. What had happened?

He had been dreaming...yes. He had been dreaming he was hurt and he was in trouble. He had been dreaming he was someone else...

"Harry!" A voice called across the darkness, nearly startling Harry into another scream.

"Harry, if you are here please answer me."

Harry scrambled up onto his feet. It had stopped raining, and he could see clearly across the park. Lupin and Moody were trudging across the muddy grass, their wands emitting a bright white light as they searched the space around them.

"Lupin!" Harry cried, so happy to see him he had forgotten he was probably in trouble.

Both men turned quickly, shining their wands directly into his face. Harry put up a hand, and squinted out at them.

"Harry!" Lupin exclaimed, sounding incredibly relieved. "Stay right there!"

Lupin ran across the lawn, which was no easy task as the mud nearly reached his ankles in places. Harry watched in silence, his happiness soon being replaced by dread. He was going to be in trouble, they weren't going to understand.

"Harry, what were you thinking?" Lupin said, as he ran up onto the gazebo and pulled Harry into a tight embrace. "You had us all worried."

"I'm sorry." Harry offered weakly, noticing that Lupin looked very old and tired compared to when he had last seen him at the station. That had barely been two weeks ago.

"Most of the order is out looking for you Harry." Moody said gruffly, joining them. "You're damn lucky Figg saw you leaving...what where you thinking boy?"

Harry swallowed a growing lump in his throat, and stared down at his mud caked shoes. He hoped they didn't think she was some desperate cry for attention, because it wasn't.

"My Aunt said I was being smart with her, and she kicked me out." Harry said, deciding he would rather not go into the whole story.

"Yes, we already spoke with her." Lupin said, running his hands through his greying hair. "Needless to say, you won't be going back there anytime soon."

"I won't?' Harry said, nearly swallowing his own tongue in surprise.

"We're sending you the Burrow." Lupin explained, as Moody began to gather Harry's things. "The Weasley's can took after you there, and we'll all drop in from time to time of course. We'll have to use Mrs. Figg's floo to get you there though."

For the first time in what felt like ages Harry felt his stomach squirm with happiness. Nearly a whole summer with Ron and Ginny, a whole summer away from the Dursleys...

"Can we go now?" Harry asked, unable to mask his eagerness.

"Yes, Harry." Lupin smiled, and patted him on the back.

Harry had been so eager to get to the Burrow he had nearly dove into Mrs. Figg's floo, and banged his head hard in the process. Moody had laughed, rather spitefully in Harry's opinion, though even Lupin had smiled.

"You'll be there soon enough." Lupin said, holding the jar of floor powder out to Harry.

Harry smiled when he loudly said "The Burrow!" and threw the powder down about his ankles. A moment later he emerged out of the Weasley's fireplace, greeted by a crying Mrs. Weasley and asmiling Ron.

"Harry!" Mrs. Wealsey exclaimed, pulling him into a tight embrace. "I was worried sick...Ron get his things for him."

Ron was so happy to see Harry he didn't even bother to scowl at his mother. Hedwig and his trunk were pulled from the floo, and by then Mrs. Weasley had let him go but had begun crying again.

"You've gotten her wound up." Ron explained in a whisper. "It's better to just let her finish now."

"Okay Mrs. Weasley." Harry said, loudly over her sobs. "I'm going upstairs now."

She nodded silently, but not before pulling Harry into one more crushing embrace.

"She's been like that all night." Ron said as they mounted the stairs. "She was really worried about you."

Harry had the feeling that this meant Ron had been worried too. At Privet Drive it had been easy to forget there were people who were still worried about him.

"I didn't mean to worry anyone." Harry said, following Ron into his bedroom. "My aunt threw me out, and I wasn't sure what to do."

Ron nodded, accepting Harry's unspoken apology. Harry threw himself down on Ron's bed, and then jumped up again when he remembered that his clothes were damp.

"Don't worry about it." Ron said. "But you'd better get changed before mum get's upset about that too."

Harry laughed a little, and went back downstairs to retrieve his pajamas from his trunk. As he walked down the hall Ginny's bedroom door opened a crack, and she stuck her head out.

"Harry!" She whispered frantically. "What happened?"

"Nothing..." Harry began, but was soon silenced by a sharp hush.

"I'm supposed to be sleeping." Ginny explained in a whisper. "Ron and I were going to sneak out and look for you too. Fred and George were looking."

"It wasn't a big deal." Harry said. "I was waiting for my aunt to let me back in the house and I fell asleep."

It wasn't entirely the truth, but it wasn't a lie either.

"We all thought you'd run..."

"Ginny!" Mrs. Weasley yelled up the stairs. "You had better be in bed!"

Ginny groaned quietly, and then smiling at Harry, she carefully shut her door again. Harry met Mrs. Weasley at the top of the stairs, the mere sight of him making her eyes water again.

"Please Mrs. Weasley, don't." Harry said, not wanting to be disrespectful but eager to avoid more hugging and crying.

"Try not to be so foolish Harry." Mrs. Wealsey said, cupping his chin in her hand. "You could have been hurt..."

"I know." Harry said. "I'll be smarter next time."

Mrs. Weasley sniffled, but let him go. She patted him on the shoulder, and then handed him a neatly folded square of purple fabric.

"Ron's pajamas." She explained. "I wasn't sure if you would have your things. Wear them for now, and I'll have Arthur bring your things up for you when you get home."

Harry nodded, and starting walking towards the bathroom where he could change. A sudden thought forced him to stop, and he turned to face Mrs. Weasley again, who was watching him with a motherly expression of worry on her face.

"Was Professor Dumbledore looking for me too?" He asked, pressing the pajamas against his damp jacket.

"I don't know Harry." Mrs. Weasley said softly.

Harry was almost positive this meant no. He nodded, and then retreated into the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.

When he came back out again Ron was sitting at his desk, furiously scratching across a bit of parchment with his quill.

"What are you doing?" Harry asked, plucking up one of Ron's old copies of _Marvin the Mad Muggle _off of the small bookcase.

"Writing to Hermione." Ron said, his eyes narrowed in concentration. "I had better tell her we found you, before she comes here herself."

"Why did you tell I was missing in the first place?" Harry demanded, sensing a world-class lecture from Hermione would soon be in hand.

"She would have found out anyway." Ron said, still hunched over his writing.

Harry threw down the comic, and jumped over to where Ron was working. Ron put his hands up over the parchment, but not before one line caught Harry's eye.

_...I bet he's doing it just to get attention..._

"Yeah, I'm really doing this to get attention!" Harry shouted, his mouth slick with venomous words. "You can just go to hell!"

"Well you should look at what other people are writing unless you want to know to truth!" Ron shouted back.

Harry ran from Ron's room, and slammed the door behind him. He flew down the stairs, to where Mrs. Weasley was whispering to Tonks, who must have just arrived.

"Wotcher Harry" Tonks said, overly brightly.

"Hi." Harry said, reaching to shove his hands in his pockets before realizing he didn't have any.

"Um...I don't think Ron wants me sharing his bedroom." Harry said, hating the way both Mrs. Weasley and Tonks were starting at him.

"Nonsense" Mrs. Weasley said, her cheeks reddening with anger. "You would have thought that boy was raised by hags for all the manners he has."

"I don't want to share a room with him either...it's a little crowded." Harry meekly offered, hoping that Mrs. Weasley would understand.

"I'll make up the bed in Charlie and Bill's old room then." Mrs. Weasley said, rather stiffly.

She gave Tonks a significant glance when she thought that Harry wasn't watching, before disappearing up the stairs.

"Got into an argument, huh?" Tonks said, punching Harry lightly on the shoulder like Fred or George might have.

"Yeah." Harry said, sighing. "He thinks I ran away to get attention."

He didn't really want to tell Tonks, in fact he wasn't sure why he did.

"Did you?" Tonks asked, staring into his eyes.

"No!" Harry exclaimed, throwing his arms up in the air. "I didn't even run away!"

"Alright Harry, calm down." Tonks said, desperate to hush him. "I just thought I would ask."

"I don't need attention." Harry said stubbornly, scowling at her.

Tonks shrugged her shoulders, as if to say 'don't we all?'. Harry ignored her, relieved to hear Mrs. Weasley coming down the stairs.

"You're all set Harry." Mrs. Weasley said. "You can go on up now. Sleep tight."

"Thanks." Harry said, grimacing as Mrs. Weasley caught him in another embrace as they passed.

As Harry was walking up the stairs his mind was swirling with thoughts, each more depressing then the last. Ron would probably never talk to him again, and Hermione would be on his case. Dumbledore hadn't even bothered to look for him, and now Mrs. Weasley was probably angry with him too. Tonks probably thought he was crazy...

"...no one has heard from him..."

Harry paused, his hand resting on the door knob to Charlie and Bill's bedroom. He could hear Tonks and Mrs. Weasley's whispers in bits and pieces, and although he knew he shouldn't eavesdrop, he was intrigued.

"...out looking..."

"...too early too tell..."

Harry back away from the bedroom door, and crept slowly back towards the top of the stairs. He cringed when the floorboards creaked noisily under his feet in protest. The whispers stopped, and Harry bolted into the bedroom, shutting the door gently behind him.

As he crawled into the freshly made bed, he couldn't help remembering his dream. Had it been one of _those _dreams? His scar hadn't hurt, and he didn't feel like he was in Voldemort's mind. Was it another trick?

Wishing he could talk Ron about it, Harry tossed and turned, until finally falling into a deep untroubled sleep.


	3. A Cry in the Dark

_A/N: A HUGE thank you to everyone that reviewed, you guys rock my world!_

Chapter Three: A Cry in the Dark

The next morning Harry awoke feeling much better than he had the night before. Even if Ron was angry with him, at least he wasn't back with the Dursleys. Mrs. Weasley was waiting downstairs for him with a plate overflowing with eggs, bacon, and toast.

"Have you been eating well Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, eyeing his thin frame.

Harry nodded, digging into his plate. He hadn't realized how hungry he was. That must be a good sign, having his appetite back. Ginny came bounding down the stairs, her shoulder length red hair pulled back into a pony tail.

"Morning Harry." She said, smiling as she slid into her seat and Mrs. Weasley set a bowl of oatmeal on the table for her before walking outside with a wicker basket full of wet laundry.

"Morning." Harry said, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of bacon. "Where's Ron?"

"He got up early." Ginny said, in between mouthfuls of oatmeal. "I think he went to play Quidditch in the field out back. Mum's been letting us now."

Harry nodded, slightly relieved that he would not have to see Ron until lunch at least. That would give him time to decide how he felt. He was still angry that Ron had accused him of running away to get attention, but at the same time he didn't want to ruin his entire summer.

"I'm going out there as soon as I finish breakfast. Do you want to come out and practice with us?" Ginny asked hopefully.

Harry quickly shook his head. He badly wanted to play, but the last thing he needed was Ron accusing him of being a show-off now as well.

"Are you sure? I'm trying out for chaser this year, and I could use some help."

"I'm actually really tired." Harry said, making a point to yawn.

Ginny scraped her bowl clean, and then dumped it into the sink. Before she went back into the garden to get her broom out of the shed she looked back at Harry, and sighed.

"Listen, this thing with Ron will blow over. If you change your mind about playing, you know where we'll be."

Suddenly, Harry didn't feel very hungry anymore. He picked as his breakfast for a few more minutes, and then dumped the rest into the rubbish.

"You aren't going to play Harry?" Mrs. Weasley asked, walking back into the kitchen with her laundry basket resting on her hip. It was still full of the same wet clothes, Harry noted.

"My back is pretty sore." Harry lied. "I wouldn't want to ruin my chances of getting back on the team."

Surprisingly, Mrs. Weasley didn't pry. In fact, she seemed distracted. Before Harry had even finished speaking she was at the open window, looking up at the sky.

"Oh, its just Pig." Mrs. Weasley said, smoothing her red hair back into place.

She took a deep breath, and then smiled at Harry. A second later Pig flew in and landed on the kitchen table, another letter tied to his ankle. Mrs. Weasley tossed Pig a treat, and then carefully pulled the letter loose.

"Harry, its for you." Mrs. Weasley said brightly, handing him the letter.

She then looked over her shoulder, grabbed the wet basket of laundry, and disappeared back outside.

Harry sat on a worn but comfortable chair in the living room, and tore open the letter.

_Dear Harry,_

_I was so worried about you! I want to know what happened, but if you're not ready to tell me I understand. Just please be careful, and don't take any more chances! I'm sorry about what happened with Ron. You know I don't agree with him. You should know that Ron was very upset before you were found. We had thought that Voldemort had found you, the way everyone was talking. Did someone else go missing as well? Ron was sure he heard Kingsley say something about "the both of them" last night. Please write back Harry, I've been waiting to hear from you._

_-Hermione_

Harry let the letter drop down onto his lap, and rubbed his forehead. Could that have been what Mrs. Weasley and Tonks were whispering about last night?

"Harry?"

Harry jumped up, and crumpled the letter in his fist. He figured it was his private business anyway.

Mrs. Weasley had walked up behind him, and as Harry turned he noticed at once that she was wringing her hands together nervously.

"Harry, I need to speak with you for a moment." She placed a hand on his shoulder and gently pushed him back down into his chair.

Harry nodded, hoping that a lecture wasn't in the works. His head was beginning to ache, and he suddenly wanted to crawl back into bed.

"This may sound a bit strange, but Harry...has Professor Snape tried to contact you at all?" Mrs. Weasley sat down in the rocking chair opposite Harry as she spoke.

"No..." Harry replied, his stomach tightening. What was this all about?

"Then obviously, you haven't seen him since school let out?"

Harry noticed she was sweating, and looked very flushed. He shook his head, and picked at a loose thread on his jeans.

"Is Professor Snape the one who went missing?" Harry asked.

Mrs. Weasley let out a small gasp, her jaw dropping.

"How did you know about that?" She asked, her voice heavy with worry.

"Hermione told me." Harry said, staring down at the letter. "Ron must have said something about it..."

"We can't be..." Mrs. Weasley suddenly stopped, and caught herself. "It isn't really your concern."

She rose quickly, and then walked back into the kitchen and began hastily scrubbing the breakfast dishes.

Harry waited for her to come back and tell him something...anything. When after a few moments it became clear she wasn't, Harry retreated upstairs to Ron's bedroom.

After searching Ron's desk, he found a piece of parchment and a quill, and quickly began to write.

_Dear Hermione,_

_I think that Snape has gone missing. Mrs. Weasley accidently told me. Do you think he's switched sides? Do you think I should tell Ron? I think we're still not speaking. Don't be worried about me Hermione, I'm fine._

_-Harry_

It didn't exactly feel like a lie, but Harry wasn't sure how fine he was.

The rest of the afternoon passed very slowly. Harry tried to nap, but he found that his body wasn't as tired as he had thought. He debated going out and joining Ginny and Ron, before deciding it was definitely best to give Ron some room to brood. He ended up spending the rest of the morning reading comics in Ron's room. Twice Mrs. Weasley came upstairsto fuss over him. Was he hungry? Thirsty? Did he need something to do? Would he liked to get some fresh air?

Harry was glad when lunchtime rolled around, and he was no longer alone with Mrs. Weasley. Ginny and Ron came bursting into the kitchen, their cheeks red from the wind and the sun. Ginny was all smiles and chatter, but Ron quickly fell silent when he saw Harry.

All through lunch Harry and Ron carefully avoided each others gazes, and did a decent job of each pretending the other didn't exist. Ginny overcompensated by chatting nearly none stop, and if Mrs. Weasley noticed their silence she didn't say anything.

While Ron was helping to clean up after lunch Harry cornered Ginny in the hallway, and quickly pulled her into his bedroom.

"I need to talk to you." Harry said, waiting for Mrs. Weasley to climb the stairs and discover them at any moment.

"About Ron?" Ginny asked, glancing over his shoulder at the closed door. "Because I'm not sure..."

"Not about that." Harry said impatiently. "It's about Snape. He's gone missing or something, and your mum's gone really strange about it."

"I sort of figured that out yesterday." Ginny admitted, somewhat sheepishly. "But I didn't want to say anything. You know how my mum gets, if she figured out I was eavesdropping I'd be scrubbing floors for a month."

"Oh." Harry said, disappointed that he didn't get the shocked reaction that he expected. "Well, um...what do you think it means?"

"Last night Moody convinced everyone that Snape had switched sides and had taken you to Voldemort himself. That's why they sort of went crazy when you were missing. Honestly, the way my mum was acting I think she was sure she would never see you again. I was worried too."

"Yeah." Harry said awkwardly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Well...thanks."

Ginny smiled, and then giggled softly. Harry had to mentally remind himself that she had a boyfriend, and her girlish crush for him had dissolved ages ago.

"Do you think its true though?" Harry whispering, hearing footsteps on the stairs. "That he's switched sides?"

"Lupin didn't seem to think so." Ginny shrugged. "And from what he said I don't think Dumbledore does either."

Only mildly reassured by this, Harry began to unpack his trunk while Ginny went back downstairs to finish her chores. As he worked he could feel his eyes getting heavier. It didn't help that Charlie and Bill's room was small, with only one small window above his bed letting in light and fresh air. As the room grew hotter his head grew heavier, and he lay his head down on the pillow intending to sleep just for a few minutes. Before he even had time to remember to take off his shoes, he had fallen into a deep sleep.

_He was trying to scream, but no sound would come from his lips. The world around him was dark and blurry. He was thrown before someone's feet, musty air clogging his throat. _

_Red eyes stared down at him, burning with anger. He desperately tried to crawl away, but one arm would not move. It was broken, the bone jutting from the skin just above his elbow. There was a chunk of flesh missing from his forearm, just where a dark mark might have been._

_Dark hair hung in front of his eyes, dripping with blood. He stared up again at the man above him, and then let out a weak strangled cry._

_Voldemort...that was who stood above him. The Dark Lord...a spell was whispered from him lips. Harry could not hear it over the blood rushing in his ears...but then it was ripping through his body. It was tearing him apart. _

_No, it was killing him. _

When Harry awoke he was screaming, his throat dry with panic. In the darkness he could not remember where he was, and it seemed that Voldemort could really be here, standing right above him. He screamed again when his bedroom door flew open, flooding the room with light. Mr. Weasley rushed in, with Ginny on his heels.

"What?" Mr. Weasley shouted, his wand drawn and pointing wildly in Harry's direction.

Harry blinked against the yellow light suddenly flooding the room, and sat up too quickly. Overtaken by a strong dizzy feeling, he flopped down weakly onto the pillow and tried to catch his breath.

"Just a nightmare." Harry explained, hating the way he could feel his heart pounding in his throat.

"Oh..." Mr. Weasley lowered his wand, but looked over his shoulder just to be sure.

Ginny stood glued to the doorway, staring at Harry with wide curious eyes. Suddenly Harry felt very foolish, because he knew he must have thrown the whole house into an uproar.

"Was it one of _those _dreams?" Mr. Weasley asked, clearly thrown off guard.

"I don't think so." Harry said.

He hadn't had one of those dreams since after Sirius...

Harry swallowed a growing lump in this throat. He didn't want to think about that day, especially not now.

"How can you tell?" Ginny asked, trying to be sensitive but wanting badly to know the truth.

"My scar didn't hurt." Harry explained slowly, still reasoning with himself as he thought. "And I don't think I was...um...connected to Voldemort. I dreamed that I saw him, but that's all."

Mr. Weasley nodded as Harry spoke, the color returning to his cheeks. Ginny however, did not look as convinced.

"Well, that makes sense." Mr. Weasley said, slipping his wand back into robes. "Everyone has nightmares from time to time...perfectly normal."

"Yeah..." Harry said feebly, deciding not to point out that most people didn't have dreams involving torture and the Dark Lord.

"I suppose that's it..." Mr. Weasley said, sounding like a man who had just narrowly avoided a great crisis. "Molly left a plate for you in the kitchen, we didn't want to wake you for dinner. So whenever you get hungry..."

"I'll be down in a few minutes." Harry said, relieved when Mr. Weasley smiled and back out of the room.

Ginny waited until her father was down the hall before shutting the door, and whipping around to face Harry. He sat up in bed, and smoothed out his crumpled clothing while Ginny looked on in silence.

"Where's your mum?" Harry asked, wondering why she hadn't spoken yet.

"Order business I guess." Ginny said. "Ron's out in the garden, I suppose he didn't hear you..."

"I don't care where Ron is." Harry said irritably, grabbing his wand off the night table and shoving it into his back pocket.

The truth was, he expected Ron to be the first person to come running if he thought Harry was in trouble. It was quite another thing to have Mr. Weasley come barging in, half convinced that Harry was some sort of a loon. He didn't mind so much that Ginny was here, she would not fuss over him like Hermione would, and unlike Ron they were actually speaking to each other.

"What was your dream about?" Ginny asked, leaning her back against the door, subtly blocking Harry's only exit.

Harry shrugged, the details were still vivid in his memory, but he had little desire to talk about it. He was afraid he would come off sounding morbid and more than a little crazy.

"I don't remember." He lied, picking up the clothes he had discarded earlier.

He might as well finish his unpacking now, because if his hands were busy he wouldn't be thinking so hard about his dream.

"Yes you do." Ginny said, crossing her arms over her chest. "You just don't want to tell me."

"Whatever." Harry said, not in the mood for an argument.

Let her think what she wanted, it wasn't going to make him talk. He slammed his trunk shut, and pushed it to the end of the bed. Still, Ginny did not move.

"You would have told Ron." Ginny said stubbornly.

Harry sighed, and then dropped on onto his trunk. He really didn't want to tell her, but he didn't want another person giving him the silent treatment. Deciding that one friend here was better than none, he cleared his throat and then told her the entire dream exactly as he remembered it. After he had finished, Ginny leaned back against the wall, and let out a big breath.

"I need to think about this." She said, rubbing her temples for an extra dramatic flare.

Harry squinted at her, wondering what there was to think about. Downstairs he heard the kitchen door slam shut, and he knew that Ron must have come back inside. Harry could not think of a single thing Ron would be doing out in the garden after dusk other than avoiding him.

"I have an idea." Ginny said, interrupting his thoughts. "But I don't think you're going to like it very much."

"Why?" Harry said distractedly, his thoughts still on his quarrel with Ron.

"Because it involves Snape."


	4. Midnight Visitor

_A/N: Wooo...thanks for thereiviews.Sorry if I do make Harry seem more than a little dense, but I guess it serves my purpose for now ; )_

Chapter Four: Midnight Visitor

"What do you mean it involves Snape?" Harry said, cringing almost involuntarily.

It seemed that over the past six years he had wasted far too many waking hours being disgusted with Snape, and now he had to bother with him in his dreams now as well?

"I couldn't really be sure, but don't you think it makes sense?" Ginny said, sitting down next Harry on the lid of his trunk.

Harry inched over, putting more of a distance between them. For some reason, he felt uncomfortable when he and Ginny got too close.

"I don't think I'm following you." Harry said, trying to appear casual and unconcerned.

"First off Snape's gone missing." She said, slowly as if she was still thinking it through herself. "And it's a fair guess to say if he was still spying for us, he might have been discovered..."

"Or he might have switched sides." He said firmly, feeling a bit of satisfaction in the thought that Snape might actually turn out to be the oily snake that Harry always thought he was.

"I suppose." She said, not really convinced. "But what if he didn't, and he was caught spying..."

"Voldemort would kill him." Harry said emotionlessly.

"Maybe not straight off the bat the though. I don't think that's his style..."

"Since when are you the expert on Voldemort?" He asked, even though he knew she was right.

Ginny ignored his comment, but narrowed her eyes at him before continuing.

"What if Voldemort has Snape, and somehow you were seeing what was happening to him?" She said, taking a deep breath. "What if the person in your dream was Snape?"

Harry stared at her for a moment, before letting out a strangled laugh.

"Don't laugh at me!" Ginny protested. "We have to face the facts! The person in your dream could very well be Snape, we're pretty sure that Snape's in trouble..."

"Since when are we sure of that!" Harry shouted, cringing as the sound of his own voice echoed through the upstairs rooms.

If Ron was up here, there was no way that Ron could have missed that. The last thing Harry wanted to do was give Ron the satisfaction of thinking that Ginny was cross with him as well.

"Yeah, but its impossible." He added.

"Maybe not." Ginny said. "You were taking Occlumency lessons with him. He's been in your head enough times..."

"That was different." Harry said. "He was standing right in front of me, not miles away. And he wasn't shoving his thoughts into my mind, he was going through my memories."

Ginny looked unconvinced, but before she could say anything further there was a loud rapping knock at the door.

"Go away Ron!" Ginny shouted. "This doesn't involve you!"

As Harry frowned, Ron pushed open the door and forcefully stuck his head inside. He glared a Ginny for a moment, and getting his strength up he stepped into the room.

"Get out, I need to talk to Harry." Ron said, pushing Ginny towards the door.

Ginny scowled at him, but surprisingly she obeyed. Harry fought the urge to jump up and hold her back, because he had the feeling she was about to blab her theory about his dream to Hermione and half the order members as well.

"I can't spend the rest of my life avoiding you, so I might as well apologize." Ron grumbled. "I'm sorry I was being such a git yesterday, but you sort of deserved it."

Harry blinked at Ron for a minute, deciding this was probably the most mature apology he was going to get from his best friend anytime soon. He probably did deserve at least some of it anyway, he had made Ron worry enough.

"Yeah, alright." Harry said, shoving his hands in his pockets.

He wasn't quite ready to forgive Ron, but he figured it was close enough. Ron smiled in relief, and Harry found himself smiling a little bit as well. In spite of his protests Ginny had him nearly convinced that somehow he had been seeing what was happening to Snape, but now with the sleep cleared from his eyes and his best friend by his side again, he could push those thoughts back into the realm of the impossible.

---

The next morning Ginny mentioned nothing to Harry about his dream, although he suspected the issue was far from over. She informed Ron and Harry over a whispered breakfast that Snape was still missing, and followed this by a meaningful nod in Harry's direction. Ron rolled his eyes, Harry had filled him in the night before and he thought the entire thing was ridiculous.

Right after breakfast Harry and Ron pulled some of the quidditch equipment out of the shed, talking eagerly about the upcoming season as they worked. They barely even had a chance to get on their brooms before Mrs. Weasley came running out of the house, still in her robe and slippers.

"Ronald Weasley, get off of that broom this instant!" She shouted, looking ready to break Ron into a hundred little pieces.

"Why?" Ron shouted, hovering just of reach, hoping she didn't have her wand handy.

He didn't doubt that his mother would blow him right off his broom if she found reason enough. She would never let him get hurt of course, it was more the principal of the thing.

"I've spoken to your father, and we agreed that there is to be no more quidditch."

"What!" Ron shouted so violently he nearly fell of his broom.

Harry felt his face redden, because he had a feeling he was because Mrs. Weasley didn't want him out of sight. He knew Ron would never openly blame Harry, but he felt his stomach lurch at the thought anyway.

"It's too dangerous." Mrs. Weasley said, carefully avoiding Harry's gaze. "Besides, there's plenty to do around the house."

Ron looked like he was debating going off and playing anyway, but he knew Harry would never openly disobey his mother and come along. You couldn't really practice quidditch with just one person.

"Fine!" Ron shouted, dropping down to the ground and kicking up a cloud of dust. "You evil hag!"

Harry nearly choked, and had to struggle to keep his broom steady as he came down to a landing.

Ron spent the rest of the afternoon confined to his bedroom, after Mrs. Weasley had dragged him up by his ear. With quidditch gone from the picture and Ron punished, Harry was left with very little to do. He would have sought Ginny out for company, but he really didn't feel like bringing his dream up again. He spent the rest of the afternoon playing exploding snap by himself, and trying not to think about Sirius. When he had too much time on his hands it was easy to think backto that night, to replay it again and again in his mind. But if he tried too hard to avoid thinking about it, it made his stomach hurt.

Ron was allowed back down for dinner, but scowled the entire way through the meal. Mr. Weasley was stuck late the office, and Ginny was oddly silent. After dinner Harry retreated upstairs, to find Pig sitting on Ron's dresser with a note attached to his leg.

"Hey, its for you Harry." Ron said, turning the letter over in his hands before tossing it at Harry.

Harry sat on Ron's bed, and tore open the letter and stared down at the familiar handwriting.

_Dear Harry,_

_I'm glad to hear that you and Ron and speaking again. I knew you would work things out. Before I say anything, Ginny wanted me to tell you not to be angry with her, she's only concerned about your safety._

Harry scowled at the letter before reading on.

_She wrote me about the dream you had last night, and what she thought it meant. I have to say, I don't really agree with her. Although its not entirely impossible that you were seeing what Snape was experiencing, I think its very unlikely. Snape might be very skilled Occlumens, but I am almost positive that he would not be able to transplant his own memories or experiences into your mind without being in very close contact with you. I still think it is very important you tell the order about your dream, the sooner the better. _

_Besides that, try and have fun with Ron and relax. I wish I was there with you both. Don't forget that O.W.L. scores will be coming soon. Depending on which courses you're able to take, you might have some summer reading to do before classes start. You should buy the books right away, if you wait till the last minute you might now have enough time to finish everything. Maybe we can go on the same day and meet in Diagon Alley? Please write back when you have time._

_-Hermione _

"Ha!" Harry shouted, throwing the letter down into the bed in triumph.

Ron looked up, startled, and gave Harry a questioning look.

"Hermione thinks that Ginny's theory is rubbish." Harry said, feeling much better than he had all day.

He knew that Ginny must have been listening from her bedroom, because he heard her door slam before she ran across the hall and burst into Ron's bedroom.

"Don't you believe in knocking?" Ron asked, setting up his chessboard.

"I want to see it for myself!" Ginny protested.

Harry handed her the letter, which she snatched greedily from his hands. She scanned it quickly, her expression growing darker as she read. Finally, she shoved it back into his hands, frowning.

"Hermione isn't always right, you know." Ginny said, which caused Ron and Harry to immediately begin to laugh.

Ginny scowled at them both, and then disappeared into her room for the rest of the night. Neither boy made a great effort to seek her out, as both sensed that they had probably hurt her pride, and it was better to just let her be.

---

Harry had fallen asleep easily that night, but awoke a few scarce hours later to the sound an owl's deep hooting. At first the thought it was Hedwig, but when he rose to let her out of her cage he found her preening her feathers and looking entirely disinterested in him all together. Deciding that Ron must have forgotten to let pig out hunting, he crawled back into bed and tried to fall back asleep.

It seemed that nearly an hour passed, and Harry felt more awake then ever. In the darkness he had begun to think about Sirius again, and his throat was now dry and his stomach was tight. He wondered if there would ever be a time were he could remember his godfather without feeling so terribly sad and guilty. He tried to swallow the growing lump in his throat, but it burned with the effort.

Badly wanting a glass of water, Harry slid into his slippers and crept downstairs. He was surprised to find the hearth still lit and Mrs. Weasley still awake, even though it was close to midnight.

"Harry dear, why are you up so late." She asked, nearly jumping up from where she had sitting beside the fire.

She sounded agitated, and something in her voice made Harry hesitate at the foot of the stairs.

"I just want a glass of water." Harry said.

Mrs. Weasley nodded, and then turned away from him to peer out of the window. Harry watched her as he poured himself some water, and then drank it down in large breathless gulps. Several times she looked at him, and then back out the window again, before sitting back down rigidly onto her chair.

"Are you waiting for someone?" Harry asked, hoping that Mr. Weasley wasn't in any sort of trouble.

"Don't worry yourself Harry, go right on up..."

Mrs. Weasley was interrupted by the sound of loud crack in the garden, followed another softer popping sound. In an instant Harry was forgotten, as Mrs. Weasley crossed the room and threw open the door.

Outside it had begun to rain, though only lightly. Over Mrs. Weasley's shoulder Harry could see three figures moving towards him in the mist. It took him a moment to realize that one person was not walking, but rather being carried.

"Arthur..." Mrs. Weasley said, her voice catching in her throat.

Harry felt his body grow cold, what if something had happened to Mr. Weasley?

Then, as they stepped into the warm light spilling from the house, Harry realized that Mr. Weasley was not the one who was in trouble. He was standing beside Tonks, who had a smear of mud across her cheek. In between them they were half carrying, half levitating a seemingly lifeless body who Harry only recognized from his shoulder length dark hair, and his long black robes.

Harry looked once into Professor Snape's face, but had to look away again almost as quickly. He could recognize so little of his potions professor beneath the blood and bruises that he was not entirely convinced it was him until Mrs. Weasley spoke.

"Arthur, Tonks, get Severus inside. Are you sure you weren't followed?"

Harry stepped backwards sharply, and overturned a chair. It fell with a loud clatter, though neither Mr. Weasley or Tonks did anything more than glance hastily in his direction. A moment later he found himself being pushed upstairs by Mrs. Weasley, who had nearly forgotten that he was there.

"On to sleep now." Was all she said, before giving him a gentle but hurried shove towards the staircase.

Harry was not sure how she expected him to sleep after having his potions professor dragged into the burrow looking more dead than alive. A few moments after he crawled into bed he heard furniture being rearranged in Percy's old room across the hall. Fervent whispers followed, and the sound of more pairs of footsteps on the stairs.

He was positive that he heard Lupin's voice, but it was soon drown out as both Ron and Ginny came out of their rooms and were harshly sent back to bed.

Someone must have thought to cast a silencing charm, because after that Harry heard nothing but the sound of his own breathing.


	5. AN: Ugh!

Alright, I know where not supposed to do this, but this chapter is an extended author's note. I'm sure you are suitably overjoyed. In case you haven't figured it out, I'm probably not going to continue this story.

I never planned on it taking this long, and I never though HBP would make most of the story pretty much impossible. I'd like to stay somewhat true to J.K's overall story, and I feel this strays too much from where she is going. Although I do think she is misleading us as far as Snape goes. Don't want to go into too much detail in case there is anyone on the planet who hasn't read the book yet.

I might pick it up again the in future after changing a few things around, if anyone cares. I'm soooooooo grateful for everyone that read and reviewed and showed me support. You have no idea how much that motivated me. I'm working on some shorter stories right now to be posted in the next couple months, so if you like my writing please, please check them out!

Love you all!


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